Marcus Ambrose halted in the lobby of his brother’s office and enjoyed the view.

Her ass was perfectly round, draped in a slinky fabric that barely covered the essentials. It was also tipped up in the air as she dug around in the bottom drawer of a large horizontal filing cabinet next to her desk.

Yes, his brother’s office was looking more interesting by the minute. He let out a long, low whistle, and the rummager stopped her rummaging and slowly peeked around her legs, her face still upside down, wavy hair tumbling toward the floor.

“Oh!” she squeaked before she stood and whirled around. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear the elevator chime.

“That would be because I took the stairs,” he answered, giving her an easy smile and moving closer.

She smiled back and her cheeks turned a charming shade of pink. She was, in fact, charming all the way around. Big blue eyes, high cheekbones, long silky hair, legs and curves for miles.

“How can I help you?” she asked, sitting behind her desk, and making him curse the bulky piece of furniture that obscured her from his view. Why the hell didn’t Derek have one of those contemporary glass and stainless steel reception desks?

“I’m here to see Derek,” Marcus answered, placing an elbow on the top of the counter surrounding her desk and leaning into her space as much as he could.

She cleared her throat. “May I tell him who’s here?”

“Marcus,” he answered.

She picked up the phone and dialed, having a brief and uninformative conversation before she hung up again.

“He has a conference call with a Senator in five minutes, but he said he’ll be with you right after that. Can I get you anything? A cup of coffee or some sparkling water?”

Marcus got closer, leaning the top half of his body toward her like a compass pointing true north. He winked at the blonde and she licked her lips. Oh yeah, this was going to be time well spent.

“How about your phone number?” he asked.

She looked at him for a moment as if she were processing the request, then finally broke out into a sunny smile. “You’re very good aren’t you?” she asked.

“Actually I’m very bad. Want me to show you?”

She rolled her eyes but was still smiling, so he knew she didn’t actually mind.

“I think you’re going to get me into trouble during my second week at my new job,” she scolded.

“Your second week, huh? And how are you liking it here at Kingmaker Inc.?”

She looked at him quizzically. “Kingmaker?”

Marcus laughed. “Surely you’ve heard the term? Someone who pulls the strings for others to gain leadership?”

She nodded as understanding dawned. “Ah, yes. That does seem like a good description of what Mr. Ambrose does. And to answer your question, I like it very much—so far.”

He nodded and reached over the countertop to snag her fingers in his grip, her breath hitched and those cheeks brightened again.

“Tell me your name,” he commanded. “Although I could just call you beautiful and it’d work fine.”

Another eye roll. Damn she was hot. He continued to stroke her fingers, thinking that they were infinitely more interesting than the more erogenous parts of other girls he knew.

She gave him a coy smile. “It’s right on my nameplate,” she teased. “Or were you so blinded by my beauty you didn’t notice that right next to you?”

He released her hand and stepped back to peruse the countertop. Sure enough, there it was, Renee Erikson. Renee. He rolled the word around in his head first and then it seeped down to his tongue where it came out sounding like a prayer rather than simply a name.

“So Renee,” he said in a low voice. “Can I have your number? Maybe we could grab a drink after you’re done for the day?”

She looked around like she was afraid of being caught talking to him. “Honestly?” she asked rhetorically. “I’d love to, but the girl who had this job before me got fired for having an affair with a client. I think dating anyone involved with the company is frowned upon.”

She shrugged as if to ask, What can you do?

Damn. Leave it to his overbearing and substantially older brother to put a crimp in his plans.

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear,” he whispered conspiratorially. “I know a great place just a few blocks from here with dark booths where we can hide out. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

He could see her wavering, indecision filtering across her face. He knew this was the moment he could seal the deal, but before he could open his mouth, her phone chimed and she glanced down. Her visage closed up immediately and when she looked back at him he felt the word ‘no’ hovering behind her lips.

“Hey jackass,” a deep voice echoed through the lobby and Marcus turned to see his brother striding toward him.

“I thought Mom told you not to call me that anymore.”

“Mom also said that you don’t date that much,” Derek responded. “We all know Mom’s wrong a lot.”

Marcus grinned as Derek reached him and grabbed him for a half hug.

“You’re getting soft in the middle, old man,” Marcus said, poking a finger into Derek’s midsection.

“I’ll take you over to Spar after work and get some gloves on you, then we’ll see how soft I am.” Derek turned to Renee, who was watching the whole exchange with big eyes.

“I’m going to take jackass here to lunch, but I’ll be back for that three o’clock call with Melville’s people.”

“So, this is your brother?” she asked, her voice tight. Shit, Marcus thought. That wasn’t the sound of a woman who was going to be setting his world on fire later.

“Yes, my parents had a moment of insanity when I was eight and Marcus is the result.”

“They just knew they could do better. Only when they’d found perfection did they stop,” Marcus answered, leaning a hip on Renee’s desk.

Derek snorted in derision. “All right, Mr. Perfect, let’s get you fed and then you can tell me about all the lies WNN will make you spew on the nightly news.”

Marcus couldn’t help but smile. While Derek might not want to admit it in public, he’d been terribly proud when Marcus called to say he’d been hired as a new political reporter for the international news network. Derek had paid for both of Marcus’s degrees in Journalism, and Marcus wanted nothing more than to repay him by becoming a success in the field. His first full-time on-screen reporting gig at a national level put him one step closer to that success.

Marcus lifted Renee’s hand to kiss it, and winked at her, hoping to charm his way back to at least a “maybe” if not a “yes”.

“It was definitely a pleasure to meet you,” he said before lowering his lips and touching them gently to her fingertips. She smelled like lavender, and it sent a rush of awareness throughout his body.

“Get your hands off my staff,” Derek growled, shoving Marcus in the shoulder and herding him toward the elevator.

As they boarded the car, Marcus took one last look at Renee and felt the disappointment course through him when he found that she wasn’t looking back. She’d picked up her phone and was texting furiously, her brows drawn in tension, and her lips pursed. That smarted. Marcus Ambrose never left a woman with a scowl. Never.

Renee stood outside the Ambrose and Associates Office Building and shivered. Early October in D.C. was crisp and she hadn’t thought to bring a heavy enough sweater when she left for work. She shuffled her feet, wondering where the hell her brother was. Granted, he was only seventeen, being late was second nature, but he knew she needed the ride so she could pick up her car at the shop and get home to help their mother. Dammit, David.

“Can I warm you up?” a deep voice murmured behind her. She spun and almost fell right into Marcus Ambrose as he strode out the doors of the building. “Whoa. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said as he placed his hands on her elbows and looked down at her warmly.

She stepped back and raised an eyebrow. “Somehow I doubt that.”

He shrugged, giving her a smile that must have been melting the hearts of teachers and grandmothers since he was a preschooler.

“Either way you’re much too pretty to be standing out here alone freezing. Shall we go grab that drink now?”

She looked at his perfectly chiseled jaw sporting a five o’clock shadow. His thick hair was adorably messy and his deep brown eyes sparkled with the kind of mischief that she would love to plunge into, but knew she couldn’t. She sighed and looked around at the busy street, workers all rushing to get home.

“I’m sorry, I’m waiting for my brother to pick me up.”

“So you’ve got a brother too, huh?” he asked, leaning back against the corner of the entryway to the building, obviously settling in for a while. “Older or younger?”

“Younger,” she answered, leaning against the wall next to him, resigning herself to both the wait and his company. “He’s seventeen…in every way.”

Marcus gave her a sympathetic smile. “Pretty irresponsible then?”

She nodded.

“You should listen to some of the stories Derek tells about me. But we all grow up eventually.”

She eyed him skeptically. “Do you?”

He laughed. “Eventually.”

“So, you’re going to be working for WNN?” She changed the focus to something more neutral, she really shouldn’t be thinking about her boss’s brother and how grown up he most obviously was.

He grinned, clearly onto a topic close to his heart. “I am. Political correspondent. Not White House press corps yet, but that’s my next goal.”

“Impressive. You seem young to be a reporter for WNN.”

He shifted so that his shoulder was against the wall and he was facing her. “Maybe, but I have a Master’s degree from one of the top journalism programs in the country and I worked for two years as an on-air reporter in Philadelphia, which is a big market.”

He reached out and picked up her hand in his, rubbing his thumb across her fingertips like he had earlier when they were at her desk. It made tiny sparks light inside her chest and she subconsciously leaned closer to him.

“And you? How did you end up working for my brother?”

She tried to remember to breathe normally, his dark eyes short-circuiting her focus. “I was in college, but I decided to take some time off. My mother is a friend of one of Mr. Ambrose’s clients—he recommended me. I was a business major, so I guess I had a pretty good background for what he needed in an assistant.”

His brow furrowed and he stopped stroking her fingers, simply holding her hand captive in his much larger one. “You’re going to finish school though, right? I mean, my brother’s great and all, but you’re far too smart to stick with him.”

She laughed. “I’ll tell him you said so.”

“I knew you were trouble,” he answered, grinning.

“To answer your question, I do hope to finish someday, but for now I’m really enjoying the job, and especially the money.” It was her standard reply to such inquiries, and not a lie, but not the truth either.

A few minutes and several jokes later Renee watched as her brother’s old Subaru lurched to a stop, double-parking in front of the building. She swallowed and moved toward the sidewalk, breaking the contact with Marcus as she did. Somewhere deep inside of her a little voice protested the loss.

David slouched to the sidewalk, giving Marcus the once over before his glazed, bloodshot eyes landed on her. “You ready?” he asked, his voice rough.

“You’re high,” she said, her tone resigned. “And late.”

“Sorry, dude. We were rehearsing and it was going so well we couldn’t stop.”

She felt Marcus close behind and before she could start lecturing David, Marcus had stepped up alongside her with his hand held out.

“Hi, I’m Marcus. You must be Renee’s brother.”

David looked at him skeptically. “Yeah. You work with my sister?”

Renee breathed in relief. While David’s tone was insolent, he at least put his hand out and shook Marcus’s politely. Almost as if the good manners were ingrained in him and he couldn’t stop the limb from following protocol.

“Nah, I’m just her boss’s younger brother,” Marcus said, smiling.

David cracked a smile too. “Oh, yeah, I know all about the younger brother gig. Non-stop nagathon. Huh, Nay?” He rolled his eyes at Renee, using the nickname he’d given her when he was a toddler. Oh for the days when the worst thing David did was wet his pants, Renee thought.

“Maybe if you wouldn’t drive stoned I could quit nagging. Did you forget why I needed you to pick me up tonight? You were supposed to take me to get my car at the repair shop. But there’s no way I can let you drive anymore now.”

David leaned back against the car that was parked at the curb. It was a midnight blue Mercedes convertible and Renee cringed at the sight of her high, teenaged brother sprawled against the hundred thousand-dollar car.

“Jesus. I took two hits hours ago. I can drive fine. I got all the way here from Tony’s place out in Alexandria. Quit making such a big fucking deal out of everything.”

Renee felt the heat in her cheeks, but she couldn’t let Marcus see how embarrassed she was by her brother’s behavior.

“Just give me the keys. We’ll talk about this later.” She held out her hand and slid a look at Marcus, who had the good sense to be staring at something on the sidewalk beneath him.

David tossed her the keys and then shuffled over to the Subaru where he got in the passenger side and leaned the seat back, leaving his leg to dangle out the window.

“Thanks so much for keeping me company while I waited,” Renee said brightly, attempting to erase the awkwardness of the last few minutes.

“It was my pleasure,” Marcus responded, giving her a warm smile.

She fluttered a small wave and walked to the driver’s side, but once again she felt his heat right behind her, stalking her every step, and when she went to slide into the seat he was there, one arm resting on the open door, watching her closely.

He leaned in and looked around her to David. “Take it easy, man.”

“Yeah, good to meet you,” David answered, giving Marcus a handclasp.

“One younger brother to another,” Marcus said as he held on to David’s hand for a moment too long. “Go easy on your sister. It’s not always easy being the older one either.”

David nodded and as Marcus pulled away, his lips passed Renee’s ear, an erotic whisper filling her mind with images of him above her, in her, filling her.

“I’m going to get that drink,” he said. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Renee stared at him, speechless, as he smirked and shut her door. She pulled out into the heavy rush hour D.C. traffic and David shut his eyes, mumbling before he fell asleep, “Dude’s all right.”

Yes, Marcus Ambrose was very much all right.